Madam Puddifoot's
by Ascend With Ivy
Summary: Harry had always hated Madam Puddifoot's. With a history like his, who wouldn't? Someone changes his mind. SSHP Slash
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Oh my God, I've started another story. I really should be working on my other one, but this just popped into my head. If I get good feedback I'll continue- if not I'll just abandon it. Takes place in Harry's 6th year.

Disclaimer: I don't own the fabulous Harry Potter series, or I'd be busy writing the 7th book instead of this slashy goodness.

Warnings: This story contains **slash** and a possible relationship between a minor and a legal adult. If this offends you, I don't know why you bothered to click the button. It shall remain T until I decide to up the rating if I continue. Oh, and as a general rule I pretend the horrible **HBP never happened.**

--------------------------------------------------------------

Contrary to popular opinion, St. Valentine's Day was a decidedly unromantic event. At this horrific time one could not step foot into a shop without being blinded by the clashing colors that seemed to symbolize the holiday; never mind the constant nagging of the salespeople urging customers to buy last minute gifts. Starry-eyed couples littered the muddy streets of Hogsmeade, their infatuation clouding their ability to detect the puddles slowly destroying their robes. Whoever celebrated the fourteenth of February deserved a one way ticket to St. Mungo's, and Harry would only be too happy to see them off. Currently trudging through said muddy streets, The-Boy-Who-Lived was desperately wishing he had never agreed to accompany the hyperactive redhead bouncing beside him. If it had not been for Hermione and Ron _cooing_ about what a cute couple they made, he never would have. Damn cowardice. He was quite happy in the closet, and his refusal to budge led to a date with his best friend's little sister in a place he had hoped never to frequent again. Madam _fucking_ Puddifoot's. If he never sat in that cursed coffee shop again it would be too soon. However, luck had always been against Harry Potter, and they approached the unassuming hell hole at an agonizingly fast pace.

The couple stood in front of the wooden door for quite a while, and Harry's unwillingness to move had led to more than one disgruntled customer.

Ginny shifted her weight a few times before finally breaking the silence. "Well, are we gonna go in or what?"

Merlin she was annoying. "Er...sure."

The door opened with an ominous 'tinkle' and revealed occupants in very similar positions as the last time Harry had been dragged here. The only change happened to be the seating arrangements, which, in his eyes, were amazingly cruel. Ginny's ex-boyfriend sat in the center of the shop, lips firmly attached to an extremely content brunette. Harry quickly glanced at Ginny, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Harry..." He cringed.

"Y-Yes, Ginny?"

She turned to him with a predatory gleam.

"Haven't you been paying attention? We've just walked though the door."

An incredulous look was her only answer. Harry was beginning to think she should join those Valentine-loving idiots in St. Mungo's.

An annoyed huff escaped her lips. "It's tradition, Harry. Whenever a couple walks through the door on St. Valentine's Day, they have to kiss."

"I've never heard of th- mmph." Before he could protest, Ginny had taken advantage of his open mouth and pressed her lips to his in an awkward and throughly disgusting kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, but they seemed to be the longest in history. They broke apart to the sound of catcalls- couples had broken apart to see who the famous Harry Potter had arrived with. Ginny seemed content that her ex was among them, and went to a table as if nothing had happened. Harry, however, was fighting the urge to throw up. His first kiss had been stolen by Ginny Weasley? Not only was it disgusting, but in seconds it had shattered the fantasy of giving his first to a certain Slytherin bastard- who happened to be the current object of his affections.

Suffice it to say Harry was in a rather bad mood when he sat across from the redhead. Gathering all his self control, he willed himself not to scream profanities at the oblivious girl and contented himself with glaring at the confetti throwing cherubs that fluttered around the shop.

"What can I get you darlings?" Oh joy, fat lady was back.

"Just a coffee."

"I'll have a lowfat iced vanilla frappacino, shot of expresso, and plenty of whip cream. And sprinkles if you've got them." The lady nodded, about to leave. "Oh! And caramel too."

How could she stand that? What was the point of getting lowfat if she was gonna load up on sugar? And, most importantly, did she think Harry was going to pay for this? At least Cho had the decency to order something simple before running out. On the other hand, Ginny managed to keep a conversation going, however one-sided it might have been, something Cho had not been able to achieve. Nodding at random intervals, Harry realized he could fall asleep and she wouldn't notice. Ah well, it left time to think. With the ease of someone who had been daydreaming more often than was healthy, Harry's thoughts wandered to his favorite subject- Professor Severus Snape. He didn't know when he had fallen for the older man; it certainly hadn't been expected. In class he was cruel- in Occulemency, brutal. Yet something attracted Harry to the older man, who continued to scorn him. Maybe it was his voice- a velvet baritone that sent shivers up his spine. Perhaps his hands- skilled and elegant. It might possibly be the overwhelming cheesiness of the fact that he treated him as 'Potter,' not the Boy-Who-Lived. But the voice was always filled with contempt; the hands, itching to strangle; the image of his father coming into place every time 'Potter' was even whispered. No, Harry was probably just a masochist. They _do_ say there's a thin line between love and hate. Clumsy as he was he had inevitably tripped over it.

He looked down in surprise as a mug was placed on the table before him, and managed to mask a look of revulsion at Ginny's inedible concoction. She took a happy slurp through the straw provided and continued on with 'their' conversation. Harry easily tuned her out and focused on the coffee before him. With a sip of the warm liquid, he once again drifted off into fantasy land, his thoughts turning slightly more wicked. He wondered what it would be like to be sitting here with the Potion's Master instead, actually participating in the conversation. Circumstances would lead him to be the one making up the pitiful lie about a tradition, and the kiss would be far from disgusting. He would press his lips to those soft silky ones, tongue darting inside before he let the other take control. The world would melt away as their tongues danced, ignoring the audience as they took it further. _Much_ further. In fact, robes were unnecessary. The scene in his mind shifted to a much more sensual one, as expected from a hormonal teenager.. Severus would trail his hand steadily down Harry's bare chest, going lower and lower until-

"Harry? Harry! Are you even listening to me?" Ginny's voice broke through his steadily hardening thoughts and he turned to her irritably.

"What!" Whoops, he hadn't meant to snap.

"You've been ignoring me this whole time haven't you?"

_Wow, what was your first clue?_

"No Ginny, I've just been... distracted."

"Obviously." She vacuumed the last of her poison up through the straw. "Look, if there's someone you'd rather be here with..."

Well of course. Anyone would be better than his surrogate sister, who remained so no matter how annoying she was.

_Oh yes Ginny. Not only do I fancy someone else, they are the sole star of my wet dreams, fantasies, and every waking thought. By the way-I'm gay in case you haven't noticed. Which you probably haven't, self centered as you are. In short,_

"There is actually." Oh bugger. He hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. "Ginny, I-"

He stopped as her eyes filled with anger, before giving way to tears.

"Who?" She choked out the question, ever the drama queen.

"I- I can't tell you. Just please, let's keep this between you and me. I really do enjoy spending time with you. You're interesting and pretty and-" His mixture of pleads and lies was cut short by her venomous voice.

"Then what's wrong with wanting to be here with me?"

"I do it's just-" The scraping of a chair overrode his voice once again as Ginny stood. There would be no reasoning with her now. If she wanted to make a scene, she would make a scene.

"Fine then Harry Potter! Go run off to your _boyfriend_ and quit wasting my time." Ah, perhaps she was perceptive. Then again, judging by the smug look on her face as the room filled with snickers, she might have just wished for the crowd's reaction. Storming off, she managed to make even the small bell at the top of the door sound angry as she slammed it on her way out. For the second time in that evil shop, Harry was left alone to face a room full of stares. He really had no skill when it came to women. With a sigh, he threw down a considerably larger amount of money than his last disastrous date and left.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Please tell me what you think so I can know whether or not I should continue.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, I'm so happy people actually liked it. This chapter isn't as long as the last, but I wanted to get it out relatively quickly. And I realized after I posted it that Cho Chang was actually Harry's first kiss- but let's just pretend he doesn't count it as one.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Tom Felton would have more scenes and Snarry would be cannon. J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers own it all, and they much prefer Cedric, Ginny or Cho with our wonder boy... to my dismay.

-----------------------------------------

Harry wandered aimlessly though Hogsmeade, attempting to come up with some sort of plausible excuse for ignoring his date in favor of fantasizing about another man. What did one say to make up for that? Disheartened and grumpy, he made his way back to Hogwarts in the hopes that he could at least get some peace.

Upon reaching the castle however, he realized that his hopes were in vain. Today was simply not his day. The entire castle was decked in those horrid colors; the younger years happily exchanging Valentines._ Singing _Valentines. Harry could have ignored this, if it were not for the fact that Hogwarts had taken a leaf out of Madam Puddifoot's book, and decided to torture him. Cherubs swarmed in the air, their smiling faces searching for their next victim. It was as if the entire castle had redecorated itself solely as an ode to Umbridge.

Angrily making his way down the corridor, he didn't notice the large black blur ahead. Unfortunately, this black blur had its nose buried in what was no doubt a potions manual, and didn't appreciate being disturbed by his odd muttering.

-----------------------------------------------------

Throughout the entire day, Severus Snape had been extraordinarily careful. He had taken his meals in his rooms, and barricaded all possible entrances to his office. He had scanned every inch of the halls whenever it had become unavoidable to come out, and destroyed the mood of all those within sight. And, of course, he had religiously avoided Albus Dumbledore. For quite a while, he had managed to elude any well wishers or cheerful moments. He hadn't even been hit once by the confetti carried everywhere by those blasted overgrown bugs. He only had one more obligation to Poppy, and he would be in the clear. However, Karma was a bitch.

Severus stalked through the corridor, his favorite robe making quite a show of billowing behind him. The few students that remained in the halls quickly scattered, even though his eyes were directed downwards. They wouldn't have been so quick to leave if they had known _what_ he was reading.

The book was dull, but a month ago he had grudgingly agreed to borrow it from Poppy. After the first page, he had never picked it up again. It was by far the worst romance novel he had ever read- not that he had read _that_ many mind you- but Poppy had flooed him moments ago demanding he return it. The woman needed to get herself a boyfriend.

So here he was, eyes desperately flitting across the page as they tried to decipher what was going on, lest she take it upon herself to quiz him. He didn't notice the bane of his existence until he was too close to avoid him. Potter seemed to be mumbling something about women- and it was far from gentlemanly. Not only had he interrupted his reading, he was using language that would make even Dumbledore's astonishingly straight beard curl. Deciding he had a few minutes to spare for his favorite past time, he slammed the book shut, smirking as the Gryffindor jumped.

"Mr. Potter, one cannot insult women in such a way simply because they are smart enough not to accompany _you_ to Hogsmeade. Fifteen points from Gryffindor." He watched in satisfaction as Potter's eyes sparked with foolishly righteous anger. Even after all that had happened, he was still too innocent to understand what true rage was. Although he would never admit it, Severus found this oddly refreshing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Mr. Potter, that no sane female would willingly subject themselves to your temper and selfishness."

"How would you know!"

"If you hadn't failed to procure a date, would you still be in the castle?"

"For your information I had a date!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "_Had_?"

"Well, er, she kinda- left."

He directed a smug look at the boy, before noticing their close proximity. That seemed to happen more and more often when they fought, and Severus was at a loss as to how. Potter seemed nervous- although it was probably due to the fact he was practically nose to nose with Hogwarts' resident "overgrown bat." Before he could contemplate this further, he was doused in the very sparkly confetti he had worked so hard to avoid.

---------------------------------------------------------

Harry was torn. If he just leaned forward a little, he would have that kiss he so desperately wanted.

On the other hand, it would probably cost him a limb, or other equally valuable body part. He was having a vicious internal struggle, and Snape was just standing there- seemingly unaware of just how close they were. The voices that seemed to have suddenly appeared in his head were arguing quite loudly, and Harry was about to break. He needed a sign. He needed-

confetti. One of the cherubs had flown over their heads while the argument was taking place, and decided now was as good a time as any to dump crap on their heads. It smiled innocently as Snape glared, racing off before it could incur his wrath. Little did it know, it had just given the Boy Who Lived exactly the kind of sign he had been waiting for.

Harry quickly leaned in, praying to Merlin he wouldn't regret this. Their lips joined in a simple kiss, but for Harry it was the world. It was the most amazing, earth shattering thing that had ever happened to him. The hills sung, fireworks exploded, bells went off- and Harry pulled away mortified. He had just kissed his professor, who most definitely had not kissed back, and was likely to be expelled. Or get a T. Or detention for the _rest of his life_. He tried to apologize, but it seemed all he could manage was an unattractive squeak before he took off down the hall- leaving behind a stunned Severus Snape.

----------------------------------------------

Reviewers:

**Enemywithin7, animegurl088, lilyroseslashreader, Miki23, quixotic-hope, Iago96, FluffySmarts, TheWingedWhisper, Come like shadows, and cat63.**

You guys make my day every time. Thank you so much!


	3. Chapter 3

_This chapter is dedicated to The Descendant Of Fianna and Come like shadows; because the first bullied me into completing it, and the second has been supportive since the beginning of Don Juan. Much love to them, and feel free to blame any crappiness on Descendant. :)_

----------------------------------

Harry was depressed. After weeks of hoping against hope that the professor would respond in a way that didn't involve unforgivable curses, he had finally given up. It wasn't as if Snape was cruel to him. In fact, he avoided him altogether. He still took the opportunity to yell when Harry screwed up in potions- but it was well earned and not at all like their earlier arguments. He actually missed the constant barrage of insults, because it meant he got to hear his voice. Now. . . nothing. He soon found that banging his head on tables would not help matters.

"Are you alright mate? You look a bit. . ."

"Ugly? Depressed? Rejected?"

"Peaky. What the bloody hell's gotten into you?"

He glared at Ron over the bangers and mash currently being served for dinner.

"Nothing, that's my problem."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped and hit his arm from her spot across from Ron. "Honestly, I thought you were a little more civilized."

Ron, however, was staring at him oddly. "Don't you mean _you_ haven't gotten into anything?"

"Er, right. Isn't that what I said?"

"Really you two. We're eating for God's sake."

Thankfully, this led Ron into a different discussion about Muggle religion.

_That was close. Never thought Ron would pick up on stuff like that._

He let his gaze wander to the head table, where Snape was glaring at everyone who dared enjoy their meal. Predictably, their eyes met. If Harry was expecting a smile, or at least a softening of obsidian eyes, he was sorely disappointed. Snape merely sneered as he did at everyone he met, and let his eyes rove once again over the four tables of the Great Hall.

_Bang._

"Harry? Are you alright?"

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

_Whoever thought of scheduling Potion's after lunch should be castrated._

Potions with the Slytherins was awful on the best of days, and today was most definitely not one of them. Harry wandered into the classroom, head still pounding from his ineffective attempt at releasing his depression. Malfoy sauntering in didn't help matters in the least.

"What's the matter Longbottom? Overestimate your ability to cram all that food into your mouth?"

Neville did look like he was about to lose his admittedly large lunch; another downside to Potions at this time of day.

"Oh look, it's Potty and the Mudblood! Did the Weasel finally realize he was too poor to attend?"

How Malfoy could fit so many lame insults into so few words was beyond Harry. Perhaps he would ask him one day.

"Oi, Ferret Face! You're in my seat!"

Never mind, he'd just ask Ron.

Malfoy was about to retort before the door was flung open and Snape strode into the room.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Malfoy, Weasly, take your seats."

They hastily complied; Ron with a sour expression and Malfoy with a pleased.

"Open your books to page 549, look over the recipe, and complete the potion within an hour. Instructions are on the board." And with that, he went to his desk to glare at anyone who dared approach.

With a collective sigh, the class reached for their books and lazily flipped to the page. Harry was among them, attempting to make sense of the words before him. Between his headache and a lack of sleep, he would be lucky if he didn't blow up the classroom. But then again, it would serve the bastard right. He heaved himself out of his chair, and went to collect the ingredients he didn't have. Which was most of them, if his reading was anything to go by. Upon reflection however- it probably wasn't.

Returning to his seat he felt something amiss, but decided to simply ignore it. After all, what else could possibly go wrong?

Those were the thoughts that landed him in the hospital wing.

------------------------------------------------------------

Upon waking, Harry realized that he should have been more careful when handling unknown substances. His sluggish brain tried desperately to recall the events that led up to his weekly trip to the wing, as his hands groped for the glasses that had doubtlessly been placed on the table beside him.

_Malfoy. . .Oh._

He was quickly and painfully reminded of what had brought him here. Glancing over at the bed a few feet away, he was rewarded by the site of a disgruntled potions master being force fed some of his own creations.

Internally groaning, Harry feigned sleep as the mediwitch passed his bed. Opening his eyes again turned out to be a mistake, as he was met by the glare of his professor.

_Ok, just this one last step and I'll be done. Harry glanced down at his masterpiece, which was quite the opposite of the color he wished it to be. Large chunks of. . ._ something _floated on the liquid surface. He really couldn't be bothered to try and decipher what he had thrown in during the past forty five minutes._ _Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy's eyesight was not nearly good enough to see over the edge of a cauldron on the desk next to him, and didn't notice that Harry needed no help in ruining his potion. With a swift flick of his wrist, he threw the surefire ingredient into the mess._

_With a sound to make even the deaf cringe, the bubbly concoction exploded in a wave of color. Those quick enough dived out of the way, while the others thanked Merlin they had a desk to hide underneath. Harry Potter and Severus Snape were not so lucky. With surprising force they were blown backward, landing on top of one another in an impossible tangle of limbs. Harry had little time to enjoy this fact however as the pain was by no means small. The last thought before he blacked out was that Snape would be sooo pissed._

"Potter."

"Professor?" Harry responded with a shaky nod of his head, wishing he had continued to sleep.

"To this day, your sheer incompetence never ceases to amaze me."

"Thank you sir."

Snape glared. "That was not a compliment."

They fell silent, each wondering how to escape the other for entirely different reasons. Finally, Harry decided to bite the metaphorical bullet.

"Sir, about Valentines Day. . ." Snapes head shot up so fast it was a wonder it didn't fly off.

"What about it." Harry winced at the snarled question.

"Well, I, er, that is. . ."

"Spit it out."

"Ididn'tmeantodothatIjustreallylikeyouandIwaswonderingifwecouldputthisallbehindusbecauseitreallywasn'tthatbigadealright?"

Amazing, Snape seemed to comprehend what he had said, and looked on in amusement at Harry's face- which was colored with an odd assortment of purples and reds.

"Alright Potter, we'll forget it ever happened." Harry looked at him in amazement.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No, I was lying."

"Really?"

"Potter!"

"Sorry sir. I just didn't expect. . . Oh well. It doesn't matter. Truce?" He offered a shaking hand.

Snape took it with a sneer. "Truce."

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- -----

Wow, I think I managed to fit almost all of the cliche ideas into one chapter. Sorry, I couldn't come up with filler, and this just kinda...happened. Don't worry- they won't be bonded and Sev won't rescue Harry from the Dursleys. -.-;; PLEASE REVIEW! I live off such things. Next chapter will be better, I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

_In honor of Valentine's Day on Saturday, I've decided to pick up where I left off a couple years ago. I'm sooo sorry I haven't updated sooner. If you're interested in any of my other stories, check my profile for updates. I'm going to get back into this fanfiction thing if it kills me!_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry Potter, a teenager whose very life was considered a fascinating subject, was bored. His birthday had passed uneventfully, with empty promises of a release from his own personal hell. The Order's intervention at the end of fifth year had only done so much to improve his living conditions. Aside from actually feeding him, the Dursleys went on ignoring him as skillfully as ever. Unable to plot when he could sneak his homework or a bit of food when they starved him, he was left with nothing to do. Essays had long ago been completed, and his summer reading could not be accomplished without new books. Dudley seemed to have finally gained sense enough to avoid him, and the park was currently "under construction." It was common knowledge that it would remain so until the workers saw fit to move their makeshift diner to a more suitable location. Preferably one near a doughnut shop. In short, unless he wished to bring even more chores upon himself, there was nothing that could possibly entertain him.

The doorbell seemed to sense his mood, and chose that moment to ring. Maybe the Order had hired a psychic. God knew a muggle would be more accurate than that...thing that called herself a Divination teacher.

Bounding down the stairs, Harry prayed to every deity in existence that it would be a wizard come to whisk him away. Maybe even the potions professor, with whom he had developed an uneasy armistice. He hadn't seen him since that day in the hospital: the man hadn't even been at the feast that marked the end of another school year.

Wrenching open the door, he was greeted by a head of shocking neon hair and a most welcome face.

"Wotcher, Harry."

It was with a grin that he replied, "Tonks! You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"Well what're you waiting for? Come on, get your stuff and say goodbye to the muggles. We're leaving."

Dashing away from the door even faster than he had come toward it, he leapt up the stairs to gather his trunk. While traveling with the clumsy Metamorphmagus wasn't always safe, it was unquestionably more exciting than a day at the Dursley residence. When he descended the stairs again, he was met by the sight of an irritated Aunt Petunia and a distasteful Tonks. The Auror was examining the room, somehow managing to wrinkle her nose and grin brightly at the same time. Harry didn't think she was capable of frowning.

"I still say it's a bit too clean. . . Well come on Harry! We're going to headquarters!"

That stopped Harry in his cheerful tracks. He hadn't visited Grimmauld Place since Sirius' death, and wasn't looking forward to facing the memories it held. Even Tonks could sense his misgivings and her smile shifted into a sympathetic one.

"Look, Harry I know-"

"It's fine Tonks." He reshaped his face into some semblance of cheerfulness. "I have to face it sooner or later."

She nodded and held out a smiley-faced mug.

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Dursley."

Petunia, who hadn't said a word, only paled and increased the intensity of her glaring.

Without so much as a goodbye, Harry took hold of the cup and prepared for the familiar nauseating feeling of traveling by portkey.

Upon arriving at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry couldn't help but think that perhaps he should have stayed in Surrey. Even with the extensive charms placed on the dilapidated building, shouts cut through the would-be silent street. Quickly glancing around to make sure no Muggle had heard, Tonks strode purposefully through the mistakenly open door.

"You'd think _someone_ would have the sense to shut the door of HEADQUARTERS behind them!"

The shockingly amplified statement would have held more authority had Tonks not tripped over yet another decorative item. Soon the shrieks of Sirius' late mother were added to the mix, and Harry wondered why she hadn't woken before this. Quickly joining the angry mob inside, he tried to placate the many arguers. That was until someone insulted a singer he was rather fond of. Then, it was on.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Severus Snape despised meetings. _Nothing_ could be worse than enduring those angry, accusing stares while others shared useless pieces of information he had no desire to know. Now that the Order was reinstated, he found himself very proficient at brewing potions intended to relieve migraines. In fact, he was quite certain that his latest batch could provide relief for decapitation. Nevertheless, he dutifully ignored the familiar feeling of foreboding and walked up to Number 12 Grimmauld place like the good little puppet he was.

Unfortunately, the chaotic mess he found inside did nothing to improve his mood. The shouting of the house's occupants reached volumes that even Voldemort's torture sessions could not possibly hope to achieve. His money was on an experiment of the Weasley brats' gone awry. That, or Dumbledore had made another one of his "friendly suggestions" about how Molly should run her house.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with listening to Celine Dion!"

Potter seemed to be refusing to admit he needed help. This could only mean that someone had finally listened when he said the boy belonged in a mental institution and was attempting to have him committed. He briefly considered going to help their cause, but decided in favor of ignoring it all. Severus brushed past the mob and into the sanctuary of the meeting room. The fact that he was thinking of it as such was a shameful act, and he could only hope that it would not prove worse than the mess outside.

"I promise you, that was all the information I was able to obtain." With an irritated flutter of his dark robes, Severus was seated once more.

"Thank you Severus. Well, you all have your assignments. Should you run into any trouble, you know where to find me. And if any of you wish to stay for dinner, I'm sure Molly would be more than willing to fix another plate." Dumbledore smiled at the listless order members, silently dismissing them.

The sound of scraping chairs filled the room, reminding Severus of students scurrying away after a particularly tedious lesson. He quietly began to slink through the doorway, managing to look imposing despite the fact he was quite obviously avoiding Albus. He was almost to the doorway when he heard words more painful than Crucio.

"Professor, wouldn't you like to stay for dinner?"

Molly Weasley made her way into his line of vision, an iron frying pan clutched in her fist. Without saying a word, she dared him to refuse. The Weasley twins stood sheepishly beside her, and it didn't take a genius to figure out she was inviting him as their punishment. As much as he would normally enjoy helping Molly torture the little bastards, it wasn't worth the awkward meal during which everyone would try to either 'include him' or ignore him completely.

"I'm afraid I'd rather cut off my own-"

"Oh come now Severus, don't be such a spoil sport." The cheery voice of Dumbledore floated in from behind him, and Severus knew he was trapped.

"Albus, I really must be going."

"Nonsense. Sit! Enjoy Molly's fabulous cooking. I'm _sure_ she'd take offense if you didn't stay for at least one of her delightful suppers." At these words, Severus blanched. There was no possible way they could weasel him into a "delightful supper."

As he sat in a rickety wooden chair surrounded by chattering brats and unbelieving stares, Severus wondered how Albus could be so inhuman. The man sat chewing contentedly as the others nervously played with their food. Everyone could sense the potions professor's dark mood, and it was making the entire household _very_ uncomfortable.

Serverus pushed his chair back forcefully, trying not to wince at the harsh grating sound it made against the wood. He'd planned to make his excuses about the need to relieve himself, but seeing that the crowd would be grateful for his absence regardless, he simply strode towards the staircase. He was so eager to leave the dining room that he didn't see the man barreling down the same stairs he was attempting to climb. As the two collided, they could only stare in shock at one another. He'd never noticed how sad Potter's eyes were before. He'd never bothered to. Before he could examine it further, his world changed. Or rather, it changed _back._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry didn't know what was going on. One minute, he was gazing into the eyes of Professor Severus Snape, humiliated beyond all repair. The next, he was in Hogsmeade.

He jumped as a voice to his right asked, "Well, are we gonna go in or what?"

He blinked several times, but that didn't stop him from seeing Ginny Weasley when he turned his head.

"Harry? Are you okay? If you don't want coffee, we can go somewhere else."

"Gin-" Harry coughed as his voice broke. He'd thought he was past that annoying phase. "Ahem. Ginny, what day is it?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Ginny, please."

"Valentine's Day?"

"That's what I thought."


	5. Chapter 5

"Ginny, I have to go." Harry was on the verge of a panic attack, and he certainly didn't need any witnesses.

"What? We just got here." If he'd bothered to look a little more closely, he might have seen the hurt that flashed in her eyes.

"I know. It's just that... I don't feel so well. I'm really sorry. I think I just need to lie down. I'll make it up to you, I promise." That was the most polite excuse he could think of. He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't just accept it.

"Don't worry, a little caffeine will perk you right up." Determined not to lose her date, Ginny guided him into the shop a little more forcefully than was necessary. Harry suspected it was more out of pride than a desire to actually have coffee with him.

Behind the door was the exact same scene Harry had witnessed on his last disastrous date with Ginny. Adolescents once again ripped themselves away from trying desperately hard to impress their dates in favor of staring at the newcomers. The room was still far too cluttered for his liking, and those depressingly emasculating decorations still burned his eyes. The smell of burnt coffee still permeated the air. Ginny's ex was still attempting to vacuum off his date's face using his freakishly large mouth.

"Harry..." Ginny's predatory eyes found his.

In an attempt to deter her, Harry coughed none too politely in her face.

"Sorry Gin, guess I'm sicker than I thought."

Looking disgusted, she led him over to the exact same table they had occupied a few months ago. She ordered the same confusing concoction he expected her to. It wasn't fair. He'd already lived through this, why should he have to suffer it again?

"Look, I really think I should go back to the dorms and rest..." Harry tried again. Apparently, it was in vain.

"You weren't sick on the way over here." His date accused.

"Yeah, well, I..." The drinks had arrived.

Suddenly struck with a brilliant idea, his eyes narrowed. Would it work? He leaned casually over to take Ginny's hand, "accidentally" tipping her coffee over in the process. The icy drink spilled down her front, causing her to leap backward with a shriek. The chair she'd been sitting on toppled over, and the entire room stopped their meaningless conversations to watch. Several of the girls began to giggle, and a couple of immature boys whistled. Ok, maybe the idea wasn't so brilliant after all. He winced as a wave of guilt washed over him. He had to hand it to her though- she was nothing if not graceful. She gingerly picked herself off the floor, and thanked a third year who helped to right her chair. She sat down again as though nothing had happened and was about to cast a cleaning spell when Harry stopped her.

"Wait! That spell will ruin your blouse. We'd better get it to the House Elves." He grabbed her hand and virtually dragged her out of the shop, ignoring the disapproving stare of Madam Puddifoot, and the gleeful faces of several previously jealous fans. He led her back to the castle, apologizing profusely the whole way. He really was sorry, but he had to see Snape and figure out what the bloody hell was going on. He'd explain things to her later.

When they finally reached the entrance, Ginny wrenched her hand from his. He met her eyes for the first time since the incident, and felt his stomach twist as he realized she was crying.

"Ginny..."

She shook her head. "It's fine. I get it." Her voice cracked as she tried to maintain what little dignity she had left. "Look, I'm pretty tired. I'll just- leave." Her voice suggested that she had finally understood that was what he'd wanted in the first place.

He watched with no small amount of shame as she hurried away from him, trying to hold on to her pride. The guilty feeling wrenching his stomach wasn't enough to send him after her however, and he continued on his way to the exact same corridor he had humiliated himself in a few months ago. Or rather, where he was supposed to humiliate himself in the future. This was getting confusing. He was relieved to see the bristling Potions Master pacing the hall, obviously waiting for someone. The man stopped and glared the minute he spotted Harry.

"Where have you been?" His voice alone was menacing, and Harry took an involuntary step backwards. He could either lie and say he was detained by a horde of raging dragons, or admit that he couldn't get away from one of the most delicate and shy girls in Hogwarts. Neither sounded good.

"Hogsmeade." There. Let him use his imagination.

"Care to explain this?" Snape motioned to their surroundings, his waving hands suggesting that the castle's very existence was due to some idiotic scheme concocted by Harry.

"What? How should I know? This isn't _my_ fault!"

"I happen to be in this situation because of an unfortunate collision with _you_."

"Well don't ask me. I was hoping you'd know what happened." The two men glared at one another, mistrust etched into their features.

"As usual, Potter, you've been completely unhelpful." The professor turned on his heel, preparing to stride away.

Before his robes could even _think_ about billowing, Harry demanded to know where he was going.

"To my library. Obviously waiting for you was a waste of time."

"You can't just leave me here!"

"I'm sure you are perfectly capable of finding your way back to the dormitories without my assistance."

"You expect me to just go back to my room?"

"That is precisely what I expect you to do Potter. I need peace and quiet if I'm ever going to find a way to get us back into our own time. And I know it's hard for your fragile mind to grasp, but changing anything while we're here could have...unpleasant consequences. I hope I can trust that you will go about your day exactly as you did the first time around."

Harry nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He would have screamed at the man if not for his final comment.

"Good." Without another word, Snape stalked off to his chambers.

Harry trudged back to his common room, thinking angrily that it wasn't fair Snape could do as he pleased. The man never had any interaction with anyone in the first place: it was more than likely all he had to do was take a few points from Gryffindor and he'd be free to research in his rooms. Harry on the other hand, may have screwed things up beyond repair. He muttered the password to the Fat Lady, trying to rationalize that at least this date had ended as badly as the first. He crawled through the portrait, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

When he opened them again, he was most certainly not in Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, are we gonna go in or what?" Ginny looked at him expectantly.

Harry wondered if suicide was frowned upon in Wizarding society.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I promise the action will pick up in the next couple of chapters. Please review and tell me what you think!


End file.
